


Don't Give Up

by Easkyla



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Baby's First Fanfic, F/M, Good ol reader/sans fic, M/M, Reader has no set gender, skelesin? Maybe skeleboning we shall see, trust in me and trust dr g, u in for a fun time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:54:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Easkyla/pseuds/Easkyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is _____ and you play a game. Except it's not exactly a game anymore, now is it?<br/>(In which you find yourself in the world of Undertale.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, this is my first fanfic so I hope you'll all enjoy it, sorry the first chapter is a bit short, there should be more coming in a day or two. :)

Around him there is nothing. No start, no end. No color or shape or form, only a blinding white or suffocating blackness-- the fact that he can't seem to settle on one or the other tells him that even this much must be his mind attempting to make sense of his surroundings. He stops questioning it the fourth time that doing so makes his head feel like it is being torn apart.

In the void, there is no such thing as time-- no way to measure passage of it. He has been in this place for as long as it has existed, and at yet he has also only just arrived-- and in this place there is no contradiction between the two. So he cannot say, cannot tell you how long ago he noticed them. Delicate little threads, or tricks of the light, running on and on and on in one direction as far as the void goes, a path he could follow forever and never reach the end of. The lines all run parallel to each other, some so similar looking they could be the same, others so different that it seems impossible they could have anything to do with the first.

When he draws close enough, reaches out, he can touch them, read along the sequence of events written in them-- hear and see and watch, and he learns. Every possibility from his home is played out, every variation, every choice that could have been different. Every path that could have been turned down instead. He is in none of them. There is a waver in the lines, he realizes, a kink at a particular point in all of them. He cannot ever quite reach it, but he doesn't need to. He understands somehow what has happened, that the core has removed him from time and space. It is as if he never was, as if his life were never a possibility.

He is less alarmed by that than he is by the way further up the lines they all begin to tangle and loop back onto themselves, some fusing into circles that go on without end. But others, so many others converge at one point and stop. And there is nothing he can do, no way to reach out into a world he doesn't belong in any longer. Though time does not pass in the void he knows these events can not be far from his origin point-- he recognizes the faces of some of the monsters.

There is nothing he can do, and he turns away from the closest thing to home this place can offer him, away from a place he can no longer exist in. Doctor W. D. Gaster looks away from the timelines underground, and out into the endless void.

And he sees s o m e t h i n g e l s e.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is _____ and you get beat up by a Forggit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter is here-- I hope it makes up for how short the first one is. I'll do my best to keep it updated daily!

Your name is _____ and you like to play video games.

You are a rational, 25 year old adult and there are no laws against having hobbies. Of which you have several. You're not exactly the type to call yourself a 'gamer', but you have been known to waste time playing video games-- and though not the most recent acquisition on that time wasting front, a certain game called Undertale has been a steady choice of yours. The charming style, fun music, and surprisingly deep characters have had you coming back on and off for a while. 

So there's nothing unusual about arriving home from a long shift at work and wanting to do something to lift your mood a little. While you make enough to get by your job isn't great or particularly engaging. You kick off your shoes as you enter your apartment, locking the door behind you on reflex. Your coat winds up draped over a chair in the kitchen, and with a guilty feeling you opt for junk food instead of making yourself a proper meal-- you'll cook dinner later, you tell yourself as you meander into the living room.

It's a small apartment, but you're pretty proud of it. There was a time not too long ago that you didn't think you'd ever be able to get your own place. It isn't always easy but you think you're doing pretty good. You flop down onto your couch and flick through Netflix titles, but nothing catches your eye. After a few more contemplative bites of pretzels you reach for your laptop instead, flipping it open and hitting the power button.

Your laptop boots up sluggishly, a few years old at this point and honestly due for a replacement-- but you damn well intend to ride it into the ground before you shell out for something new. There are no interesting emails waiting for you, or new IMs, so you launch Steam, deciding that playing something will be fun. Tabbing over to your library, the game selected is Undertale. You've played through it pretty recently though, and while you could make an attempt to actually finish a bad run you just can't find the motivation for it. Perhaps later, you tell yourself.

Idly you run a hand through your hair as your eyes scan through the game library you've amassed. Nothing seems to be jumping out at you, much to your frustration-- and then a new window pops up on its own. For a moment you think steam must have crashed-- but no, reading the little box reveals there's an update available for the game you're currently tabbed into. You frown slightly-- that's a bit weird, isn't it? But you hit yes anyway, and while the update downloads you go to google what changes have been made-- maybe there will be more content?

"Maybe I can save Asriel now," you muse under your breath-- and immediately you feel awkward. You've never been the sort of person to talk to yourself out loud, even in your own home it makes you feel a little like you're disturbing someone. You don't have much time to dwell on the thought however, because just as you're about to start typing your computer screen flashes dark and from somewhere within it you here an unsettling series of beeps and a crackling noise. You do not notice the symbols that blink on the screen as you frantically press the power button, not wanting to let your poor computer fry it's self.

A moment later you're cursing and jumping back in shock, shaking your arm and flexing your fingers as you try to get rid of the unpleasant tingling in them. Something must have shorted out, you decide, because you're quite sure that was a nasty electric shock. You stare unhappily at your laptop, which seems to be powered off, but you decide you're not taking any chances. You stand and head to your kitchen for a thick pair of rubber gloves, then return to the living room and remove the battery from your no longer functioning computer. Your hand and arm still feel funny, and you find yourself wishing that you could google what you're supposed to do after an electric shock.

Once you're sure that your computer isn't about to start a fire or zap you again you can take a moment to mourn, sighing as you cover your mouth with one hand. You knew you needed a new one soon, but you were kind of hoping you could wait a little longer. You also realize that you haven't backed up a lot of files, and for a moment it's a full on pity party as you consider everything you lost. Reluctantly you settle back onto the couch and start browsing Netflix once more. Eventually you throw on some series or other you've been meaning to watch, and zone out.

\-------

You know you must have drifted to sleep at some point, despite the lingering pins and needles sensation in your arm, because you're laying down now. You flex your hands and are pleased to discover that you feel fine today, surprisingly well rested even. You reach for your blanket, feeling a little cold-- and frown when you touch something that doesn't seem like either your couch or bed. Your eyes snap open and you find yourself staring at a lot of yellow and green in a nice, sunny patch. Gingerly you push yourself up, staring around with the sort of confusion that can only happen when you're waking up.

Except this time the world refuses to resolve its self from your initial impression. You still seem to be sitting in a bed of yellow flowers, in some sort of cavern, by the looks of it. You stand up slowly, staring up at the light above, raising a hand to shield your eyes.

"What the hell?" You breathe, looking around. How did you even get here? Where are you? Obviously you didn't come from above-- there's clearly no way you would have survived the fall if that were the case. Turning you stare into the darkness-- and yes, you can just make out a path. Did someone break into your apartment, drug you, and leave you in some cave system as a sick form of amusement? You're shaking a little as you start off, patting your pockets. No phone, no wallet with you. Nothing except the clothes on your back. This is bad.

You walk forward into the gloom-- and though you don't see where the light is coming from there seems to be some ambient source, which you are glad for, and which gives you hope. You hurry on past and archway and a strange patch of grass in the earth. Something about all of this is giving you a a weird sense of... Not exactly deja vu, but something similar. You wonder if you've seen pictures of this cave system and apparent man made carvings before-- maybe you're at some historic sight? All you have to do is get out and find someone with a phone and you'll be fine, you decide. You press on through the empty room and into the next.

And you're greeted with a locked door and a puzzle. You read the plaque and stare at the stones longer than you'd care to admit before something in the back of your mind clicks. Something that is absolutely impossible. You stare around the room and back the way you came, frowning as if your surroundings will give you an answer. None comes, however-- and feeling foolish you step on several stones carefully, in the order you remember Toriel walking them countless times in one of your favorite games. The doors click open, and you stare over at them.

"Okay," you announce slowly to the doors and the room you're in. "Okay. I'm asleep. I'm dreaming," you settle on, relaxing a little. You have lucid dreams every once in a great while. This is obviously one of them, cool. You have to give yourself credit, you decide as you step through to the next room, now with a sense of confidence. You're imagination is better than you expected, making all of this out of a top down view from pixels.

It's pretty easy to get through the start of the Ruins, and you're sort of hoping that you'll stay asleep long enough to see Toriel's house. You've tried to imagine yourself reaching it on the next turn around the corner, the way you should be able to in a dream, but it's just not happening. So instead you've been making your way through and feeling only a little bored. So you are practically delighted when a Froggit hops out in front of you.

There's a strange, almost dizzy sensation as your 'soul' pops out and the fight starts. It's swirling a few shades of green that remind you of lively healthy plants, and looks pretty cool. It's also accompanied by the weird, floaty movement sensation you associate with dreams, and you're totally relaxed and wondering how to flirt with the monster in front of you.

And then Froggit leaps at your soul. You try to move out of the way, but you're a little to slow, and it makes contact. It hurts like someone has sunk a shard of hot metal into your chest and you stagger back, too winded to even scream. You come to a panicked realization-- you are not dreaming. You're going to die. This little frog monster is going to stamp your soul to death and there's nothing you can do about it. Shit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is _____ and you eat snail pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this one guys, and thanks so much for the comments so far. ;o; Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter-- and someone special should be showing up in the next one. ;D

You are going to die at the hands of a frog. This is not how you imaged you would leave the world-- and for a brief moment all you can think is that you hope no one finds out. But you're alone in some huge cave under a mountain that should not exist-- something you really don't have the time to contemplate right now-- so when you die you won't even have to worry about it, no one's going to even know you're gone. Somehow the thought isn't very comforting.

The Forggit lands back near where it leap initially, watching you warily, and you can see the muscles in it's legs shifting and coiling, preparing for another jump. The pain in your chest fades to a minor twinge-- though overall you're suddenly feeling less great and a lot more like someone who's a day away from coming down with the flu. Your body aches and you feel rather tired-- and alarmingly even more sluggish than before. Apparently this is what soul pain feels like-- and it does not feel good.

When the Froggit jumps again you're wiser, and you twist away, though you only just avoid letting the monster collide with your soul-- and the momentum makes you stumble. Your feet, clad only in socks, catch an uneven crack in the ground and you fall, adding skinned palms and bruised knees to your injury checklist. By now adrenaline is rushing through your system, prompting you to either run or turn around and fight the thing attacking you. You attempt to scramble to your feet to flee, but you've started to shake and you have trouble getting up. The same stuff your body is pumping into you to try to make sure you live doing more harm than good it would seem.

The Frogget jumps again and you manage to throw yourself back and instead of colliding with your soul the monster hits your shoulder. You're left with a set of claw marks, but all and all the damage is about what you'd expect for a giant frog trying to body slam you-- it hurts but it's no where near the agony of having your soul attacked directly.

You get onto your hands and knees and push yourself up, feeling something that isn't exactly confidence-- it's more a sense that you might actually be able to live. You narrow your eyes as you watch the small monster, feeling that this time you're ready, this time that little fucker isn't going to get the best of you-- and then several things happen at once.

Froggit jumps again. A flicker of fire shoots out, intercepting it and somehow knocking it aside. You jerk and turn, looking for the source and find yourself staring up at an impossibly tall figure. They aren't human and a fresh wave of panic fills you. You realize after a long, uncertain moment that they must be talking-- their mouth is moving, but for some reason you can't seem to hear anything. As if on queue suddenly you are aware again of noise, it comes rushing back, along with the he pounding of your heart in your ears.

"--now. Please put it down, no one else will hurt you," the figure says-- a woman from the sound of it. You blink slowly up at her, taking in features that remind you of a lamb or a goat, and slowly you feel some tension drain out of you. This must be Toriel-- though in person she's large enough to be frightening and there's something about a goat face that's kind of unsettling.

"I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins," she's telling you, her voice gentle and quiet, but slightly urgent. And yep, you were right on the money, and holy shit she's huge. "Please put down your weapon and let me look at your wounds," she says to you, hands outstretched. You blink and turn to look at your raised hand. You're holding a large chunk of rock with a slightly pointed side facing out-- a crude tool but better than bare hands. Your fingers are white, you must be holding it hard, you think-- and the moment you do you're aware that yes, you're gripping it so hard it kind of hurts. You wonder when you picked it up-- probably when you were on the ground, you'd have needed something to defend yourself.

With that thought comes a surprised wave of horror-- you drop the stone, realizing you'd come close to attempting to clobber the Froggit to death. Your soul sinks back into your chest a moment after you drop the makeshift weapon, leaving no trace it had ever been anywhere else. You stare up at Toriel, and to your surprise and embarrassment you start to shake and your knees go wobbly, all that adrenaline hitting you at once. You try to speak-- but instead all that comes out is a sob as you lose the ability to stand. Now that you're safe the full weight of the events only moments prior are hitting you, the fact that you'd been attacked and how much it had hurt.

Toriel seems to understand though-- her expression goes soft and she leans down, reaching out to pat your uninjured shoulder gently. "There there, child," she murmurs to you, dropping to one knee and still towering over you. You stare up at her, trying to make your voice work and insist you're not a child, you're actually a grown adult, thank you, but all you wind up doing is crying more. You reach up and rub at your eyes, feeling embarrassed and a little foolish-- apparently you don't handle stress well.

"You are safe now, I will not let any harm come to you," Toriel speaks with surprising gravity. It's not the reassuring words to a lost child you expected from the game. Instead she seems like she's making you a solemn promise. It feels strange. Toriel reaches out with the hand not already on your shoulder, holding it in front of your chest, a questioning expression on her face. You're not sure what she's asking you, but after a moment you nod, deciding you trust the goat monster. She smiles at you and gently presses her palm against your chest. A sort of warmth flows into you easing away the sickly, weak feeling you've had since your soul was hit, as well as the lingering tension and pain you'd almost forgotten about by now.

"Th-Thank you," you manage to say, when you realize that she's healing you. You honestly hadn't even noticed you were still in pain until she did this, and you're really very grateful. She offers you a gentle smile, and then a hand up. You take it, but instead of pulling yourself up you find that she's lifting you as if you weigh nothing.

"Please, follow me," she says, with a worried expression. "I would not want you to get hurt again," she tells you as she turns, staring off. She's glancing back like you might not follow-- and you realize you're staring. Then you start off after the goat woman, and while you walk you try to come to terms with the fact that apparently all this is real.

\--------

You've gone crazy, you decide. You're name is _____ and you've lost your mind. It's not the fact that you've apparently woken up in the middle of a place that isn't even real that confirms this for you. It isn't a goat woman who's pushing eight feet at least. It's not that apparently you have a soul as an actual, tangible thing, or that this is all a video game that you've played in the past.

Snail pie is delicious. You must have gone crazy. After being practically pushed into bed and told to rest, then woken and corralled into the main room of the house to a seat at the table you were presented with the plate before you. At Toriel's urging about your health and that the pie wouldn't be as good once it cooled you tried a hesitant bite, wishing desperately that you were small and cute enough to warrant butterscotch-cinnamon.

And it was delicious. The texture is a little weird, sure, but there's the flavor of garlic and herbs and butter, and the crust is flakey and savory. You swallow that first bite, eyes wide as you stare down at your slice of pie. You look back up at Toriel, who's watching you expectantly.

"This is... Wow," you say, smiling at her as you cut yourself another bite with the side of your fork. "Sorry, I've never had snails before, I didn't think it would be so good," you tell her, embarrassed.

"I am glad you like it," she says with a smile that looks almost relieved. "Snails are an important part of our diet, it would not be easy for you to live here if you did not enjoy them," she says, nodding.

Despite how inexplicably wonderful the snail pie is, suddenly you don't feel very hungry. You know you can't stay in the ruins-- and that leaving means fighting against Toriel. How are you going to get past her if you can't even outwit a Froggit in your own? You swallow dryly and reach for the water, snail pie sticking in your throat as the goat woman heads into the kitchen. You can hear her making her own plate and humming to herself.

You stare down at your snail pie as if it can give you advice, and you realize that you are really, truly fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is _____ and somebody came.

You lay down in the slightly cramped, child-sized bed after dinner with Toriel, and look around the room. It's cute, even though it has a definite air of disuse-- and it has the slightly unsettling effect of reminding you both of a guest room and a child's room. You let your hands fist into the sheets under you, and now that you're alone you allow the full weight of the situation to hit you.

You're in the Underground. Despite everything you've seen and felt so far you can't quite shake the feeling that you ought to be waking up soon, or that maybe you're going to come to in the psych ward of some hospital, found out wandering the streets hallucinating after you ate some bread with weird mood growing on it. That's a thing that can happen-- in fact the whole Salem witch trials might have been due to that, you know. You could very well just be going crazy.

But as you let your eyes sweep the room again you think that this might be for real-- it certainly feels real enough that you're scared. You want your mom, not Toriel but your real, actual mom to tell you it's going to be okay. You want to be back home in your apartment with your safe, boring life where you don't have to worry about your soul getting hurt or your possible imminent death.

Maybe you can just spend the rest of your life here, you think for a desperate moment. Just you, Toriel, and all the snail pie you can eat. You wonder if snails are nutritionally complete. What if you die of scurvy down here? That would be awful.

You realize everything has gone a bit blurry, and you reach up to rub your face, surprised to find that it's already wet, that you must have been crying a bit before you noticed. Once you realize what you're doing you sit up, sniffling and drawing the blanket closer around you. It smells slightly old, but still clean and very much like someone else. This only serves to remind you that you're not home, that you're somewhere far away and lost.

Then you're weeping openly, scared of the underground, what it means that you're here, and what you'll have to do to get home. If anyone had asked you about this situation, if it was something you wanted you probably would have said yes. But now that it's you having to actually consider doing all these things... It's frightening. You let out a particularly loud sob as you realize you are a coward. You are a coward and you are all alone.

Then the door creaks open, and you look up to find the tired, worried face of Toriel staring down at you. You may be an adult, but she's so much larger than you that it's no issue for her to lift you, you blanket cocoon and all, and set you on her lap. You tense for a moment as she strokes your hair silently-- she's a stranger and you're a grown adult. Your first instinct is to try to stop crying, get yourself under control.

But when Toriel starts to hum a soft tune to you it's too much. You feel like a small child again, bundled in someone's lap, and you turn and cry into her shoulder, letting all your fear out until you're so drained you nod off.

In the morning you feel better. Your eyes feel sort of sore and your nose is stuffed up, but it seems like your cry lifted a weight inside of you. Still, you hesitate before pushing yourself out of bed. You're more than a little embarrassed that you cried in front of someone else, and you're not sure you want to face the goat woman just yet.

You glance around the strange room-- and you're surprised to find a glass of water and a bowl of what looks like oatmeal sitting on the floor, far enough away to prevent you from knocking them over as you get out of bed. You wrap yourself in the blanket again and shuffle over, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The water is cool and the oatmeal, in a large earthenware bowl, is still warm. There's a heap of brown sugar, a scattering of raisins, and a splash of cream in the bowl. You consider, and swirl the ingredients together, then start to eat. Much like the snail pie last night this food seems to nourish you in a way that goes beyond satisfying your hunger.

When you've finished you stand up and gather your dishes, but you stop halfway through. All you can think is that you're going to need to fight that huge goat woman at some point, and it's not going to be pleasant. You need to learn how to dodge somehow-- but thankfully you have a plan already. Maybe not a great plan, but a plan none the less. You step out of your room and head in the direction of the kitchen.

"Toriel?" You call softly. Everything in the room seems so /big/, and you feel honestly dwarfed, it makes it seem like some funhouse thing, the seat of the big chair by the fireplace is close to the level of your hips. Monsters are big, it turns out. Just when you think perhaps she's out doing something, her head pops out around the corner of the kitchen. She smiles at you, the expression kindly.

"Oh, good morning. I did not expect you would be up so quickly-- I hope I did not wake you," she says with an apologetic expression.

"Oh, no," you reply as you shift the dishes in your hand. "I woke up on my own. Thank you, ah, for the oatmeal," you add, and as you say it Toriel seems to realize your hands are full. She moves forward, plucking the dishes out of your hands gently, and smiling at you.

"I am glad you enjoyed it," Toriel replies, with such feeling you can't help but flush a little. She's much nicer than you thought. A moment later though your musings are interrupted. "My child," ah yes, you think. It's me, absolutely a child. "What are you called?" Toriel asks, her smile gentle and eyes inquiring. You blink a few times, surprised.

"_____."

\-----

The first day Toriel won't let you out of her sight, the second isn't much better, either. But the third day, the third day you get to enact your plan. At least, you think it's the third day-- you've slept three times. Toriel seems quite solid on what part of the day is what, but without any change in lighting or ambient noise it all seems the same to you, and already it's running together a bit into what feels like one impossibly long day punctuated by naps.

There's no way that you're going to beat Toriel they way you are now-- and there's also no way you can stay in the ruins forever. You're already going a bit stir crazy and it's only been three days. But there's a bigger reason than that, a more important one.

If you're here and you're human, and if this is like the game... That means you have the power within you to free the underground, doesn't it? You shuffle forward, deeper into the ruins as you think. It's not that you're not frightened or that you particularly want to be a hero-- after the fight with Froggit really you sort of wish you could just hide forever. But you can't just do nothing knowing it's possible to save all the monsters trapped underground-- and hell, you even know how to do it already! Even if you're frightened, even if you're not sure you can make it don't you have a duty to try?

By now your wandering has brought you to a room with a set of pillars-- you recognize it at the rotating room puzzle-- and despite how curious you are about the rest of the underground you can't quite bring yourself to continue on. This should be far enough in for your plan, anyway.

You wander slowly, waiting, hoping that you'll run into another monster. You need to get better if you're going to fight Toriel-- and the only way you can do that is if you learn how to dodge. Which is a scary prospect-- and come to think of it you probably should have brought some food with you... Yeah, you think as you turn around to head back. You need food before you can start training yourself, it's not safe to be without a way to recover some energy, and you're totally not chickening out by heading back right at this instant to get that.

You haven't even taken more than a dozen steps back the way you came when, from a deep shadow behind one of the pillars, your arch nemesis appears-- Froggit. You actually freeze up for a moment, deciding that actually this was probably a terrible idea and maybe you should just run now while you have the chance. But then Froggit hops closer, and you feel the tug in your chest, and that familiar, almost unreal floating sensation. It seems like running is no longer an option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry this chapter took so long to get out-- my job scheduled was shuffled around and I wound up working a week straight-- plus I had a little trouble here. I wanted to get to Sans this chapter but I felt like that would be rushing and skipping some important stuff, so sorry about that! 8C


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is ____ and you learn to dodge.

This time you have experience and expectation on your side-- which makes this both worse and better. On the one hand, you know what you're going in for and have a vague idea of how to handle yourself, but on the other hand you know how badly this can go. Even if you were sort of running away under the pretense of getting food it was something you ought to have brought with you for this.

This time when Froggit jumps at you you're quicker to move out of the way, and you turn to watch for it's next move. With an experimental motion you realize that you can direct your soul a bit-- it follows your body from roughly six inches or so, but if you focus you can make it swing around you or closer quite easily, though trying to draw it all the way back into your chest makes you feel like you're trying to touch to magnets of opposite poles-- you assume this has something to do with battle magic. You don't try to hard to send your soul far away from you-- pushing past by more than an inch or so makes you feel faint and fuzzy as if you're about to pass out, which would not be wise while the frog monster is hounding you.

You duck and dodge and swing your soul out of the way, gaining a few physical scrapes but so far being able to shelter that strange green heart shape that is apparently your actual self. It's really quite beautiful and you wish you could have a moment to sit and look at it without being attacked-- but alas, this is not the case.

You realize, the first time that you stumble a bit over an uneven patch of ground, that you didn't really think this all the way through. Sure, it was one thing to a monster to fight you-- but you're starting to get winded and your legs are burning a little from a lot more sustained effort than you normally have. And when you ask yourself how you convince Froggit not to fight you... your mind draws a blank. Unlike in the game there's no break for you in the fighting, no moment where it suddenly stops and you get multiple choice questions.

"Hey," you call to the Froggit as it lands from another attempted attack. "Listen, I don't, ah, want to fight you, okay?" You offer. To your surprised it cocks it's head for a moment, and seems to consider. Then it leaps for you again, and you only just manage to turn out of the way. You frown slightly, trying to think of what might work. Maybe... "Listen, if you don't stop soon I'm going to stop holding back-- and I promise you will not like what happens then!" You bluff, trying to intimidate the monster in front of you. Somehow Froggit raises an eyebrow at you-- an eyebrow it doesn't even have. What the heck?

It's next attack seems a little less harsh though, like Forggit isn't quite throwing his all at you. That's a good sign, right? "I-I'm really tough," you pant, deflecting another jump with your arm. "And I can do this all day. Listen," you add, in a burst of desperate inspiration. "Why are we fighting? Come on, man," you plead. "A handsome frog monster and an individual like myself could be finding much better ways to spend out time," you suggest, throwing in a bedroom wink. This seems to be the right move because suddenly Froggit is blushing, and shuffling away from you awkwardly. You're still on your guard, and frankly feeling a little ridiculous. But then the Froggit hops away from you, and just as suddenly as the battle started it's over, your soul sinking back into its chest.

You pause for a moment, panting, trembling on legs that you're only now realizing were mostly functioning because of adrenaline. After a moment you have to kneel, feeling a little too wobbly. But you did it-- you ended a fight with a monster on your own, without hurting anyone. And you can even out with only a few scrapes. You might just be able to get past Toriel after all.

 

A few hours later you've tapped the allowance Toriel has given you on spider doughnuts. You've had a few more run ins with monsters, but aside from that one Froggit most of them don't actually seem interested in fighting you, which is a weight off your shoulders. Sure, Moldsmal throws some wispy magical attacks at you, but they're much less directed than your first foe. Vegitoid is just really forceful about feeding you when you run into it-- and by the end of the 'afternoon' as it were you're actually starting to feel somewhat confident. It helps immensely that monster food really does heal you-- not just with that strange way it fulfills you-- but literally it can heal you some. The more you eat the older your scrapes and bruises look, until you've eaten so many doughnuts you wrap around into feeling a bit ill. It's sort of like having too much coffee-- there's a nagging energy that you can't quite seem to shake even after a small jog. Your skin feels prickly, like someone's rubbed a ballon on cloth and is passing it close to you. It doesn't hurt or anything, but it's not pleasant.

By now you're feeling bold-- you've bested all the monsters in the ruin without hurting any of them. You've had so many spider doughnuts you're actually heading back to Toriel's house at a jog, and you're the sort of person who worries of danger would actually be enough to motivate you into running, so that really says something. As you open the door and let yourself in part of you knows you're being foolish-- that Toriel is going to be much stronger than any of the monsters you've just faced, that you should be training more before you do this. But another part of you is aware that if you don't act now you may loose your nerve-- and wind up staying here for a long time. You're not the bravest person you know.

You pad through Toriel's house, heading to the living room after a long glance at the stairs. And of course there she is-- the impossibly tall goat woman in a chair big enough that it looks like some strange prop. For just a moment you pause, taking in the room. Despite the house being built too large for humans it seems cozy, the light of the fire Toriel's reading at casts a cheerful, welcoming glow. And not for the first time you reflect it might not be so bad to stay here. Then you take a step forward. You know how to free the monsters, and that means you're obligated to do it. Even if it's not going to be easy.

Toriel looks up from her book as you step into the room, smiling at you. She tucks one finger between the pages as she folds the book closed. "_____, I do hope you had a pleasant afternoon. There is lunch waiting for you on the stove," she says. Her expression softens a little as she looks you over, though for a moment it seems as if she's looking through you, not really seeing you at all. "I am so glad you are here, _____," she says to you, still smiling-- and you feel your stomach sink a little. Of all the times she could choose to have this talk with you, it's now, isn't it? He smile is unwavering, and reaches her eyes. You're starting to feel pretty terrible.

"I know you are not truly a child, but I cannot help feeling like we might grow to be like a family," she tells you. And oh yeah, you're getting really familiar with the feeling of guilt. She goes to say more-- and you put up a hand, startling her a little. Her expression turns just slightly annoyed, stern-- and you're reminded of a certain type of teacher. But you press on. You have to do this now.

"Toriel, I appreciate all that you have done for me. I really do," you say to the monster, who's expression is stilling. She knows already, you realize. "But I can't stay here. I have to go home," you tell her, even if that's not quite the truth of your plan. You suppose you do have to go home too, but right now your main worry is that there's an entire species trapped in this mountain and you need to fix that. That's the only reason, the only possible thing you can think of that makes sense, that would explain why you're here. Or at least it makes as much sense as anything can in this crazy turn of events, anyway.

She stands, and stares down at you, towering over you. All of the gentle kindness has gone out of your face, and you wonder if perhaps you've made some mistake. "If you leave the ruins you will be killed," Toriel tells you, her voice curt, cold even. "You are a human, and a though I believe you have a good heart, all humans are a threat to monster kind," she tells you, sweeping out of the room and toward the basement stairs. You follow her, swallowing down the lump of uncertainty in your throat. It's all you can do to keep stride with her as she descends stairs that are too tall and deep for a human, obviously cut for something slightly larger. They leave you feeling off-balance and as if you might fall. You almost don't notice when you reach the end of them, distracted by Toriel speaking again.

"Even if that were not the case, the King himself is collecting human souls to break the barrier. Do you not see that only death awaits you outside of the ruins? I can keep you safe," she tells you, not even looking back as she carries on at a brisk pace. You jog to keep up with her, frowning now.

"I don't believe that," you pant out. "I think-- I think monsters are decent, there has to be a way to make them understand," you plead with her, hoping perhaps you can convince the goat woman to let you go without a fight. She turns her head just slightly, glancing back at you for only a moment. "It will not matter shortly. I am going to destroy the doors. Go back upstairs," she tells you, before looking ahead again.

And then you see it-- in the dim light ahead a massive pair of double doors, so old they seem as if they've been there since the dawn of time. You can't imagine the kind of power it would take to bring them down, but Toriel seems confident she can do it with no problem. As the two of you draw near to them she slows, and then turns to face you.

"This is a foolish choice, _____. There is nothing for you beyond these doors," she tells you, staring hard at you. You square your shoulders and stare back. "Toriel, I can't stay here. I have to go," you tell her, thought you can't stop your voice from shaking a little. And then, just like that you feel the tugging sensation in your chest again, and your soul slips free.

"So be it," Toriel says solemnly. "If you truly want to go home, prove to me you are strong enough to survive," she says. And then the light in the room shifts as will-o-wisps seem to spring to life, and fire dances across Toriel's paws. For one moment everything is still and stunning and beautiful.

And then the flames all rush toward you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is ____ and you're cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise I'm NOT DEAD

You dodge. You jump. You weave between flickering orbs of fire that throw off a crazed, dizzying light as they dance around you. There are too many of them, and while so far you’ve kept your soul from being burned, the same can’t be said about your body. Toriel’s will-o-wisps glance across your back, your arms and your legs every few steps, stinging and burning. It’s like grazing the inside of a hot oven— but after the first few minutes? You aren’t sure about the passage of time right now, everything seems to be taking so long. After the first few minutes shock starts to take over. The pain dulls and you develop a fine tremor— you feel sick to your stomach and your mouth has gone dry.

Still, you must continue on. Your world shrinks for some time to the act of weaving between flames on unsteady legs— the whole world becomes the act of arching your body, or rolling away, throwing yourself up and away. Eventually though some thought comes back to you. There’s something else you need to do, isn’t there?

You look up, taking a small flurry of the flame, and see the goat woman watching you— in the flickering light a statue carved of stone, her expression impassive. Your movements begin to take on a semblance of meaning, and you begin to close the gap between yourself and the monster.

“Toriel, please,” you beg, your voice coming out a choked whisper, sounding to you like something that belongs to a stranger. “I don’t want to fight you. Please. Let this be over.”

Toriel stares down at you— and for just a moment all the flames seem to dance away from you— you’re so hurt, shaking hard and what feels like a hundred burns across your body all seem to cry out at once, making you whimper.

“Others will not show you mercy. Give up now, ____. Come back with me and we will forget this,” she tells you.

You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I can’t. I h-have to go,” you say, knowing already what the response will be. As you predict, the will-o-wisps dance back in, and Toriel’s face grows cold again.

You loose track of time. Now and then you shout for this to end— but Toriel seems unwavering. Your vision slowly starts to shrink to the center, and all you hear is the pulse in your ears.

You are not sure when the flames stop. Eventually your tired, battered body is aware of nothing incoming. Slowly you look toward the goat woman, who is watching you with a pained expression. Fire still flickers over her hands, and the orbs drift lazily feet from you.

“You will die out there. Like all the others,” Toriel calls to you, something in her voice sounding broken. “I could have kept you safe. This could have been a home for you,” she tells you, and the flames all begin to fade as she walks toward you. Your soul sinks back into your chest finally, but this does not give you much comfort.

It takes all your effort not to flinch as she reaches out, laying one massive paw against your chest again. You’re frightened of her, you realize. Even as her healing magic flows through you, undoing the damage her flames have caused you’re still afraid.

“I warned you,” Toriel tells you softly, sadly. “You bring this fate upon yourself…” She stands, silent for a long moment. Then she speaks again. “Do not come back. You are not welcome here.”

You’re not sure how long you sit there on the floor after Toriel leaves. Your wounds are healed— mostly. Parts of your skin are shiny with new scars— soft, well healed burns but scars none the less, little reminders of what has happened here. Your clothes, too, are singed, with holes in them where flames hit you, and you’re weary in a way you’ve never been before. Toriel must have pitted you, you think.

Slowly— oh so slowly you push yourself to your feet, wanting to be away from this place, away from a woman who could go from being so kindly and sweet to you to hurting you so badly. You walk to the massive doors, and for a moment you despair all over again— how are you going to open these?

You reach out one shaking hand, resting it on the cold stone as you try to formulate some sort of plan, some way to do this. The doors must open, you cannot have gone through all this for nothing. You can’t return to Toriel now.

But almost as soon as you lean a bit of weight onto the door it begins to swing outward, strangely smooth. You are not sure if this is by magic or by exquisite engineering, but it matters little. Before you is a winterland in that eerie, bright twilight that the whole of the underground seems to possess. A chill winds it’s self around you slowly, and you step forward slowly into the snow.

It’s cold, you think, your brain still slow and foggy from the fight, eyes jumping for any threat. You’re not dressed warmly enough for this— and your clothing is practically in tatters. But there is nowhere for you to go except forward.

———

Walking helps. You think it’s been maybe an hour or two since your fight and escape, but your sense of time is really foggy in the underground without fight-or-flight reactions that send a lot of your brain offline.

The first thing you’re actually aware of when you start thinking again is that you’re cold. Not presently worried about freezing to death kind of cold, but you have the unsettling feeling if you stop for too long it could be dangerous. It takes you a lot longer than you would have expected in the first place to reach the bridge and the very ineffective gate— and when you see it in real life you can’t help but laugh. Even the largest person would have no problem strolling though the ‘bars’.

Something nags at the back of your mind though, and you turn around to stare down the empty path you came from. This entire journey has been crazy so far, and not exactly fun. But you sort of… well, you’ve been trying not to think about it too much because it’s a little weird that you’re going to meet someone you already think of as a friend, isn’t it? You’ve played the game plenty of times— and while what’s happening now is undoubtedly not a game in the slightest— and it’s hard not to form attachments to these characters. People? Probably better to go with people you think as you trudge on.

You do have to wonder where Sans is though. You think maybe since you stayed with Toriel so long your timing is off, that perhaps that’s going to change the pace of things. The whole underground might basically be a mystery to you as far as what’s going on. The thought isn’t very comforting.

Across the bridge you come to the clearing you so well recall, though it’s different coming into it with woods on either side of you, and flakes of snow drifting from the cavern roof that is, in all honesty not very far above you. It’s eerie and makes you feel a lot more penned in than you like. It wasn’t so bad in the ruins, but here it makes the forest feel like a mockery.

You can see Sans’s work station ahead, and you make your way over, hoping that perhaps you’ll find a spare jacket or a blanket or even a hat to help keep you warm. The holes in your clothes aren’t feeling so great. Much like Toriel’s home, Sans’s station is just built a bit too big for human scale. Not so much that you feel dwarfed like you did in Toriel’s home, but the chair takes a small hop to get up into and everything is just a bit bigger than is comfortable. You rummage around, finding mostly condiment packets and not much else. After a minute you sigh, straightening up.

“ya know,” a voice says from behind you, making you jump and turn in alarm. “’s not very nice to go digging through someone’s stuff.”

Standing above you— almost looming is a figure in a blue parka, hands shoved into his pockets. He stands at least six feet tall, you think as you stare up at him. You didn’t expect to feel afraid, but you do now as you stare into a pair of dark, empty sockets. You take a step back, and something catches your foot. As you fall backwards, you let out a shriek.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is ____ and you meet a skeleton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STILL NOT DEAD

Your shriek cuts off as suddenly as it started, courtesy of the workstation countertop becoming acquainted with the back of your head. You bite your tongue hard enough you expect to taste blood as you finish the rest of your oh so graceful decent to the floor. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath again, and when you do you curl a little, cupping the back of your head with both hands.

“Ow,” you hiss, involuntary tears pricking in your eyes. It takes a moment for you to remember that yes, there was a reason why you fell and that yes, that reason is still standing there. A pair of empty sockets still watches you, and boy is that still really making you uneasy.

“I, uh— sorry?” You offer, feeling uncertain, trying to reconcile this two-dimensional impression of a person you’ve really built up in your mind with the figure in front of you. You almost expect him to smile, to crack a joke— do something that reminds you of the guy you think he’s supposed to be— but that stare just continues. You swallow and scoot yourself further upright, staring uncertainly. “I was, uh, just trying to find something warm,” you offer, gesturing at your patchy clothes.

For a moment the skeleton’s face softens slightly as he gives you what you can only guess is an actual look over— it’s hard to tell with no lights in his eyes. It’s worth noting how bizarre that is to watch too— somehow his whole face shifts and moves as if it’s not made out of bone at all. One eyebrow— brow bone?— raises slowly as he takes in your clothes, and you’re not sure if you blink or not, but suddenly there are lights in those sockets staring down at you.

“wow. you’re uh, not the best at dodging, are ya?” He asks you in a tone that hints at amusement— but only just. You, being tired, cold, hurt, and maybe a little disappointed that you’re apparently not even worth of an introduction frown up at the skeleton.

“I happen to be pretty good when it’s not against like a hundred moving targets, actually,” you point out, a little more snappy sounding than you mean to as you continue to apply pressure to the back of your head with one hand. “Or at least decent. I didn’t die?” You add, a little too tired to be trying to have this fairly one-sided conversation.

Suddenly the monster before you is kneeling down on one knee, his posture casual as he rests a boney hand on top of the edge of a surprisingly thick femur that’s peeking out of the end of his shorts. You’d stare, but you’re busy trying to lean back a little because suddenly you’ve just lost all your personal space, and it turns out that even if it’s to a character you really like you’re not super into that. There’s not really a graceful escape and you’re still working on how to best edge away when he starts to speak.

“well, i s’pose we might as well get this part over with,” he says, tone full of the same false casual as the smile plastered across his face. His mouth doesn’t move when he talks, and that throws you off more than you expect, but mostly you’re just confused enough to tilt your head, raising one eyebrow.

“i’m sans. sans the skeleton. but you already know that, don’t you?” He asks, head cocked to one side slightly as he studies you with an expression that is distinctly unimpressed.

You gape for a moment, forgetting your worries about the cold and the pain in your head because that is the weirdest direction this could have gone, and frankly you were supposed to be the one saying some mysterious shit like that. Not Sans.

“Uh…. okay. I mean, yeah, I do— but how do you know I—“ You cut yourself off, shaking your head a little, and frowning up at the monster. “Okay, what?” You ask, feeling a little bit at a loss. “Okay, well I’m __—“

Sans grin doesn’t falter, but he raises a hand to cut you off, looking almost bored. “listen, no offense buddy, but i don’t really want to hear it,” he says in something close to a drawl. “whatever you’re gonna say, trust me, i’ve already heard it before. i’m just here to give you a little heads up,” he continues.

You swallow hard, starting up at Sans, and you nod a little, feeling as out of your depth as you had the first time you’d had to enter into a battle. Sans eyes you for a moment, leaning in just a little to make sure he has your attention, then he speaks.

“i don’t really care what you do, but if you hurt my brother you’re going to regret it. and whatever it is you think you’re gonna do— free everyone, get us all to the surface?” He asks, something bitter and amused creeping into his voice and oh, this is so unsettling on a whole other level for you. “don’t bother him with it. i’m not in the mood to see him let down again. got it?” Sans asks.

You nods slowly, a hundred questions lodging somewhere in your throat— How the fuck does Sans know you? Does he think you’re Frisk? How does he even know what you have planned? — but Sans just gives you one lazy wink. “cool. good talk,” he says, as if he hasn’t just made everything thirty-two flavors more confusing and worrying.

Then, just like that he’s gone. The space he was in suddenly and jarringly empty save for a few footprints and the indent of a shin and kneecap in the snow. You wrap your arms around yourself slowly, staring past the doorway, and contemplate what’s just happened.

“Well, fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, the last couple of months have been a major bummer for me between personal issues and just the political cycle in general, but I'm back now and I hope to be doing a chapter every week or two, work permitting.
> 
> Also you know. Hon hon hon he he he tell me wat the heck u think about this one because I wanna know!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is ____ and you’re really not pleased with this turn of events.

You sit there and shiver for a few minutes longer, chewing your lower lip as you ponder how the tables have turned on you and your plans. It isn’t exactly that you actually had known what you were doing before— you just know how to win this game you like, and if the reality of the underground is anything like it you can’t just not try. Toriel had been real enough, so have all the other monsters in the ruins. You haven’t thought too much about why you’re here before— only that since you’re here you just have an obligation to help, don’t you? Not trying would be like coming across an accident and walking away without helping— it’s just not something you would do.

Which makes you wonder what the actual fuck is happening. Sans seems to know you— and be pissed at you? You’re not sure on that last one, you don’t know him well enough to tell if he was pissed or if he was just warning you off. Had you done something bad…? You can’t imagine you would have, and what the skeleton had said about ‘saving everyone’ has you puzzled. Maybe you’ve done this before and failed?

You shake your head a little, and push yourself up carefully, sighing at the chill. You should keep moving, you decide. Staying still is only going to make you colder and trying to think about what’s just happened only makes your head spin a little. It would be different if there were nagging memories, anything that seemed weird, but there honestly isn’t and it’s really leaving you feeling off-kilter.

You trudge dutifully through the snow, breath puffing out in front of you in steady, cloudy streams. Everything is silent save for the crunch and creak of snow under your shoes, and while now and then you see tracks weaving across the road and through the trees, all is fairly silent. It’s not too long until you start to edge to the sides of the roads, leery of traps. You don’t think you’d run into anything that would hurt you, but no one seems to be around, and you’re already shaking again.

It’s really not that far to Snowdin, it turns out. The snow is only ankle deep on the main section of the road, but the drifts to the side come halfway up your shin and make the going slower, however. You spot a couple of monsters playing off the road in the woods, and you think they see you as well, but you opt not to approach them. You’re still tired from the fight with Toriel and feeling clumsy with cold, you’re certainly not ready if they’re feeling anything less than friendly.

You shuffle into the town on limbs that really don’t want to work well in the cold, stiff and heavy enough that you’re occasionally tripping. It’s all you can do to hope that the monsters you pass don’t know what you are. You get a few curious looks, but more waves than anything else as you trudge into town. You do your best to smile back and wave occasionally, but you’re really running on your last leg here, and you’re a bit surprised honestly that no one is asking you if you’re alright.

You pause for a moment to take in the inn and general store leading into the town— but a quick rummaging in your pockets reveals only a couple of gold. You can’t recall what the price of the inn was in the game off the top of your head, but you’re pretty sure the remains of the allowance Toriel gave you isn’t going to cover it. You know Snowdin has a library you could warm up at, but the prospect of some food— especially magical food with it’s weird, restorative powers— makes you continue what you can frankly only imagine is a stagger through the town at this point to the local fine dining establishment. It’s a relief when the building you’re looking for comes into sight— you’ve never been so happy to see a bar in your life. In fact, you might not have ever been happy to see a bar at all before now, drinking just really isn’t your up of tea.

You stagger through the door, into the blissfully warm air, and for a moment all the chatter in the place dies down, making you shift awkwardly as yet more strange faces turn your way. You recognize a few patrons from playing the game, but many are strangers to you, and there’s a long moment where you’re worried someone will call you out as being a human. Slowly however conversation starts to filter back in, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, working your way up to the counter.

Grillby, it turns out, is a little intimidating in person. One moment you’re settling into a too-tall seat, enjoying the warmth and realizing that you are really, really hungry— and the next there’s suddenly a fire in front of you. You start a little as the lighting changes, flickering oranges and yellows dancing across a snappy looking button up and vest— and really you can’t help but stare at him. Instead of a face, Grillby just has… fire. Glasses are somehow resting on his face— though you’re not sure what’s holding them up— you suppose he’s all vaguely shaped like a human might be, but it’s hard to tell.

It’s not until his head tilts to the side, and a hand which was laying flat on the counter before drums lightly with similarly firmly fingers that you realize you’ve been staring— and probably are expected to order. You flush and cough, rubbing a hand over your face.

“Oh— sorry. I’ll, uh, have a burger?” You manage, feeling stupid and slow. The fire elemental keeps staring at you though, and you somehow have the strange impression an eyebrow is being raised at you— self-consciously you cover one of the burns on your shirt with your hand. You have no idea what else to say, so you look down— and after a few moments the man moves away from you. You’re left in peace for a while to warm up, and as long as you keep your eyes down and don’t think about where you are your head starts to feel clearer. You just need to eat and find somewhere to crash— today has been entirely too much for you, you don’t want to even think about your near-death— because that’s what fighting Toriel had felt like. You almost don’t want to think about anything— somehow you feel a little like you do when you want to skip work for the day— you just want everything to stop for a little while and not to worry.

You’re a little startled when a plate is slid in front of you— like Toriel’s place, it’s a little big, but the burger on it is sized right for you. You glance up at Grillby to give him your thanks, but he’s already turning away to another patron. You’re surprised how shitty it makes you feel to be ignored— but mostly you’re hungry. You pick up the food, and take your first bite— then several more in quick succession before you stop to think you might actually want to taste your food some.

You’re about halfway through your meal, and starting to feel like a real person, with real feelings and emotions again instead of a robot when the stool next to you is pulled out with a long, low squeak. Someone sits down heavily— and you already know, before you even look. Before you hear the peculiar tap of bony hands settling on the bar beside you. You could not just have this burger and time to clear your head. Of course you couldn’t— why would a magical alternate universe let you do that? You turn to stare at Sans, who is already leveling you an unpleasant sort of smile, the same casual fake one from before— and if he’s surprised to see you turn toward him, it certainly doesn’t show on his face.

“Listen, whatever is up, can we just have like— I don’t know, five minutes of pretending it’s not up? I am hungry and I just walked like four miles in the snow and I just want to eat this stupid burger without any mysterious bullshit because my mysterious bullshit meter is presently out of order. And if you want to be an ass it’s not like there’s anywhere else I can go, anyway,” you say with a shrug, proud that you manage to deliver it sounding flat and bored and perhaps a little comedic— except perhaps the last few words where your throat had started to tighten up.

Sans stares at you for a long moment, expression unchanging— then those lights in his eyes flick to your hands, and the half a burger in them. Your fingers are still bright red from the cold, and you hope he notices and feels bad. When his eyes— eyes? Eye lights? Whatever they are, when they come back to your face, something in his expression shifts a little, relaxing slightly. He shrugs, turning to face ahead.

“okay,” he says, his tone light and flippant. You stare for a moment longer— consider being pissed, consider asking question like what the fuck was he such a dick for and does he have any idea how shitty your day has been without him being an asshole and how apparently in the midst of all this madness you have the ability to be let down by someone you looked up to. But then you remember Sans doesn’t know you, you’re a perfect stranger to him— or something close to it, anyway. And you really wanted to enjoy that burger. So instead you turn back to that, and do your best to continue eating like nothing is wrong.

Apparently Sans doesn’t need to order, but you’re not really surprised when the flaming bartender sets down a burger and basket of fries in front of him— it seems pretty part for the course. You glance over as you work on the last couple of bites of your own burger, semi-curious about the ketchup thing. Instead of an answer what you get is a skeleton giving you a deadpan look, like he was absolutely expecting you to look.

You swallow, silent and suddenly feeling uneasy. Sans has a poker face and you really, honestly have no idea what he’s thinking— you’re just stuck staring at him, and you don’t want to be the first to look away. It’s a relief when his eyes flick to something on the counter— and without thinking you follow his gaze. It’s a ketchup bottle— the red plastic squeeze kind. Of course it is.

When you look back, Sans is shaking his head, and lifting his burger. “don’t actually like ketchup that much,” he says, without looking at you. “it’s rude to stare,” he adds, the light of his eye finally flicking toward you. “unless you don’t need that whole five minutes anymore.”

You gulp, paling a little, and turn to face forward, playing with your napkin. Yeah, you want the whole five minutes, you think. You’re only finally getting your wits about you, and something about this whole situation is just very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't Give Up is apparently the name of both the fic and my update scheduled.


End file.
